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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26896486">bridges</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/calvinahobbes/pseuds/calvinahobbes'>calvinahobbes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>2019, Coming Out, Family Dynamics, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:28:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>942</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26896486</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/calvinahobbes/pseuds/calvinahobbes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>People always talk about burning bridges but they never talk about how it means there are places you can never revisit.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dan Howell/Phil Lester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>131</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>bridges</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you to my Gals, ahappyphil and yikesola for reading this over &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I shouldn’t have done it like that.”</p><p>Dan has been staring unseeingly at the TV for a good while now, thoughts running roughshod through his mind. He’s been trying to ignore the churning feeling of guilt all day, but it’s coming to the forefront now. He slides further down in the sofa, knees effectively blocking out the TV.</p><p>“Hm?” To Phil’s credit he is actually listening. He makes the standard sound for, ‘I can’t process two audio inputs at once but I’m pretending to’, but then the words seem to penetrate the Riverdale fog. He turns and puts a hand on Dan’s thigh. “Dan...”</p><p>Dan sighs and sits up, folding his legs under him. “I shouldn’t have made it into a joke.”</p><p>“You didn’t!” Phil sounds quite genuinely indignant.</p><p>“I always do this; I always make it into some whole production.”</p><p>Phil quirks his eyebrow, his mouth tightening stubbornly at the same time. “Who says that?”</p><p>Dan shrugs uncomfortably.</p><p>“Maybe if I’d talked to him-“</p><p>The emotion takes him completely by surprise. His voice wobbles and his eyes get suddenly wet, and that’s how he knows he’s about to cry.</p><p>“Dan. Hey...” Phil’s hand around the back of his neck feels good. He lets out a wet sigh and studies the grey weave of the sofa seat. </p><p>“No matter how much he likes to pretend surprise, you know he wasn’t really. No one was, <em>really</em>.”</p><p>Dan nods. He knows. “That’s what makes it worse,” he croaks.</p><p>Phil draws him into an awkward hug, but Dan can’t handle anymore awkwardness right now. He scrambles and shuffles, ignoring Phil’s grunts, until he’s curled up in the corner, arms and legs slung around Phil.</p><p>Phil’s hand rests on his thigh again, the other coming up to rub soothingly at his scalp. He kisses Dan’s temple, stubble scratching against the thin skin there.</p><p>“What would the therapist say about thinking you can control other people’s emotions?” It’s a rhetorical question so Dan ignores it and burrows down. The next thing Phil says is carefully measured, “He might come around...”</p><p>Phil sounds anything but sure, which is fine. Dan knows there’s no real chance.</p><p>“I know I burned that bridge. To be fair, it was a shitty bridge to begin with.”</p><p>“Hm. Very structurally unsound.”</p><p>“A part of me knew this could happen. People always talk about burning bridges but they never talk about how it means there are places you can never revisit.”</p><p>“Well, you know what they say.” Phil pauses artistically and Dan braces himself for another botched idiom. “The grass is always greener on the other side of the bridge you just burned down.”</p><p>Dan can’t help a short bark of a laugh. He leans back to look at Phil, who grins. “That was good! You should be proud of that one.”</p><p>“I am.”</p><p>He puts his head back on Phil’s shoulder. “You make a convincing argument- <em>don’t <em> let it get to your head!”</em></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Phil giggles a little and squirms. Then he falls quiet again. “You’re gonna be okay, Dan. I’m proud of you.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Thanks,” Dan whispers quietly, fingers picking at the fraying hem of Phil’s t-shirt. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Phil leans back in the sofa, resting his head against the back fully, drawing Dan with him. They sit.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“It’s just... Who will walk me down the aisle now?” Dan says eventually.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“I’ll do it,” Phil mumbles, which is how Dan knows he’s been about to fall asleep.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You’ll do it!?” He scoffs, voice going a bit high.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“What?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You’re supposed to be standing at the altar waiting!”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You really the bride in this scenario?” Phil’s voice is dark with amusement now that he’s caught up.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Dan sits up to look at him properly. “Of course I am,” he says in mock indignation.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Phil just studies him closely, blue eyes taking Dan in fully. “I always thought we’d go in together.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The image is somehow very powerful. The two of them, hand in hand down the aisle. Coming and going. Together.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Is that how you pictured it?” Dan asks even though now he already knows.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Phil shrugs. There’s just the barest hint of vulnerability beginning to shine in his eyes. Dan kisses him before it can linger. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yes.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yes?” Phil sounds confused.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Yes you can walk me down the aisle, Phil Lester.” </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Phil laughs and kisses him again, thoroughly now. Wetter. Dan smiles into it. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It’s not long before Phil pats him on the thigh again, though, and says, “Tea?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Please.” Dan lets him up. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Green?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Hmm.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>It’s always green after dinner. And Phil knows that.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>While Phil is clinking away in the kitchen, Dan sits and thinks. He can’t control his dad’s emotions, no matter how much he has always wished he could. Phil is right. He may have burned a bridge, but it was a shaky bridge leading into a murky swamp, full of treacherous sucking holes and recriminations. They need a new bridge. Maybe even a new point of entry. He’ll walk along the river, or ravine or whatever it is in the metaphor, with Phil beside him and maybe one day he’ll find a new place where it’s possible to cross. He feels proud of that analogy and tries to remember it for next time he sees his therapist. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Phil comes back with tea and biscuits. He sits the mugs down on the coffee table and grins.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“What?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Phil’s been digging in the back of the cupboard to find his old blue mug that says World’s Best Daddy. Dan rolls his eyes and sputters a laugh. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You idiot,” he says. But he gives Phil’s hand a squeeze before he reaches for his mug.</em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading. <a href="https://calvinahobbes.tumblr.com/post/631425660384083969">Like/reblog on tumblr.</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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